Friday, February 10, 2006


Finally, I submitted to an agent.

It's only a story I've had laying around in the whirlpools of my mind for ages.

It's only my blood spilled figuratively onto pages.

I picked out an agent - based on my perception of what she is. I didn't think about what she could do for me, but more of what I could do for her.

I read other people's writings and I know, down to my soul, that the way that I write - for the correct reader can be astounding.

Is that egotistical of me? No. It's truth. I may need polishing and I may need a little more time to get it more perfected, but my writing is the one thing I've held on to throughout all of my years of life.

I have no idea what she will say about the partial she requested. I have no idea if she'll even read it. But I do know that it is a good set so far.

I keep pulling the story out and thinking of how to fix it. Perhaps I'll rewrite it all during the next week or so. Before she can slam me down with a rejection - before she can say - sorry... this isn't for me...

But even if she does - I believe in me now. And I think I have what it takes to do this.

But I will admit, I'm terrified.

So - I cross my fingers instead.